The tic at the eyes does not go without Remy's notice, and his eyebrows lift, just faintly. He doesn't stop working on the gumbo, nor does he particularly make an effort to get out of Caroline's way, instead just standing exactly where he was before in front of the stockpot. He gives Caroline a funny glance every once in a while, though, because that shrinking thing is awful weird, now that he's really noticed it.

"You been here a coupla mont's an' you ain't even poked y'head up yet?" Remy muses, his expression thoughtful. "You been holin' y'self up. 'Course, wit' all de shit dat goes down here, can't say as I'd blame you."

Of course, then she's mentioning crawfish, and the look she gets from Gambit is nothing short of put-upon. "Si vous plait. I ain't t'ievin' nobody's 'ngredients. B'sides, wouldn' trust no crawfish nobody got up here 'nyway. Prob'ly taste like shoe leat'er." A beat. "Ain't seen dem, 'dough."